


say i was your favorite

by DemigodWolf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Puppy Love, i think, iwaoi mean well, matsukawa works at a funeral house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemigodWolf/pseuds/DemigodWolf
Summary: Hanamaki Takahiro knew who Matsukawa Issei was. Or more accurately, he knewofhim. But it was impossible not to. Matsukawa was known all around the school.Tall, handsome, black hair that curled in the most amazing of ways. Yeah, Hanamaki knew him.
Relationships: Background, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	say i was your favorite

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! 
> 
> I had this idea since the first time I listened to Taylor Swift's new album, Folklore. So, yeah, this is based on her song; Cardigan. But I've found that I perceive Cardigan's meaning a little differently than others. 
> 
> This is more about the thrill of puppy love expiring than the one of cheating. Matsuhana and cheating just doesn't sit well with me.
> 
> Enjoy~!

Hanamaki Takahiro knew who Matsukawa Issei was. Or more accurately, he knew _of_ him. But it was impossible not to. Matsukawa was known all around the school.

Tall, handsome, black hair that curled in the most amazing of ways. Yeah, Hanamaki knew him.

But Matsukawa was known for reasons other than his appearance. He was the son of the owner of the local funeral house and that just added to the mysteriousness of him. He wasn’t a member of any clubs, even though many had tried to recruit him. He was usually found behind the school smoking, but Hanamaki had never caught him in the act. The smell of smoke was there though and so were the rumors.

Hanamaki wasn’t one to believe in rumors, but Matsukawa smoking was a piece of common knowledge that everyone purposely ignored. Why make it a big deal when the guy never did anything to anyone?

Matsukawa was friendly to everyone, yet had no one close enough to call a friend. Maybe he was a loner, Hanamaki didn’t know, but he hoped that he wasn’t lonely.

“There are rumors of him smoking weed behind the school,” Oikawa whispered next to him as Hanamaki was watching Matsukawa take his shoes off and put them in his locker. He rolled his eyes at his friend and followed Matsukawa’s example and took off his own shoes.

“That’s illegal,” Iwaizumi said, coming next to them, and really, if he had heard it then maybe Matsukawa had heard them as well and Hanamaki was so, _so_ close at killing Oikawa he could almost taste the blood.

Thankfully, Matsukawa had left without giving them a single glance.

Oikawa scoffed, “yeah, and so is child labor, but he still works at the funeral house.”

“His father owns it, there’s nothing illegal about that,” Hanamaki said, standing up.

Knowing when a battle was lost, Oikawa gave up on the rumors and took off his own shoes.

“Hey, Makki,” he said. “We’re hanging out later, wanna come?”

Hanamaki smiled at his friends, thankful they included him, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been dating for five months now and every time they hanged out, Hanamaki just felt like the world’s biggest third wheel.

“Nah, it’s good. I’ll go to sleep early, big day tomorrow and all.”

And it was true. Tomorrow was the game against Karasuno, and Hanamaki wanted to be as prepared as he could.

“Smart,” Iwaizumi said. “Maybe I can convince Shittykawa of doing the same.”

Hanamaki grinned.

“Oi!”

* * *

Hanamaki was hurting. Not physically, though his body was aching, screaming of tired muscles and bruises forming from volley balls. No, Hanamaki was _hurting_ in a different way. His heart was broken, shattered and bleeding, a pain he knew not how to deal with.

They had lost. That was it. His volleyball career was over; he knew that he wasn’t going to continue after high school. It was over. He didn’t know what to do now.

He was walking aimlessly, trying to keep his thoughts running, away from a court, away from pain. He looked at the stars, made a wish to a falling one he couldn’t see. Maybe that would be enough.

“You good?” A voice asked and Hanamaki snapped out his thoughts to look around. He had walked to a corner under a streetlight and had almost ran into Matsukawa.

Matsukawa, who had a cigarette between his lips, a blush on his cheeks perfectly illuminated by the streetlight, two empty beer cans laying by the pavement.

Hanamaki was strangely filled with want. Matsukawa was _looking_ at him.

“I’m good,” he muttered, hands searching for pockets to hide into but finding none.

Matsukawa hummed and sat on the pavement, kicking the beer cans away with his foot and patting the space beside him. Hanamaki sat.

“You lost the game?” Matsukawa asked, taking a drug of his cigarette.

“You know who I am?”

“You’re wearing our school’s volleyball shorts,” Matsukawa said, an amused edge on his voice. Hanamaki swallowed hard.

“Yeah, we lost.”

“Never been to nationals, huh.”

Hanamaki didn’t get angry at that. He just felt defeated.

“Name’s Hanamaki,” he said, just to say something.

“I know,” Matsukawa said. “You’re the only guy with pink hair.”

Hanamaki felt strangely known.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Chilling. Had a drink, smoked some,” Matsukawa said around his cigarette before throwing it away.

Hanamaki almost commented about littering but didn’t. Instead, he said, “You’re drunk.”

“Nah. Two beers aren’t enough for that.”

Hanamaki had no reason not to believe him.

“So what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Hanamaki asked, confused.

“Why are you out in the street at almost ten at night on a school day?”

“Why are you?”

Matsukawa chuckled, “touché.”

“Needed to take my mind off the game, I guess,” Hanamaki replied, strangely honest.

Matsukawa hummed. “I know just the place for that,” he said and stood up. “You’re coming?” he asked, looking down on him.

Hanamaki had no reason not to go. “Sure.”

They didn’t walk far, only five minutes’ top, to a higher place that Hanamaki had passed countless times before but never at night and never pausing to take it in. Miyagi wasn’t like Tokyo. It had forests and mountains and green at every corner and Hanamaki felt his breath leave his lungs as he stayed under the stars and watched the view of his little hometown stretch underneath him.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, breathless.

Matsukawa hummed in agreement, another cigarette between his fingers but it wasn’t lit. He was looking at Hanamaki.

And when Hanamaki looked at him, Matsukawa was even closer than before, cigarette forgotten between his fingers, so close Hanamaki could count the stars in his eyes and then Matsukawa was kissing him.

He tasted of smoke and beer and Hanamaki found the taste disgusting but Matsukawa’s lips were soft and plush and they pulled him and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

* * *

School was the same the next few days. Well, except from a couple of things. Matsukawa would send him half smiles and winks if people were around and they would meet behind the school, smoke on Matsukawa’s lips that Hanamaki would lick away and Matsukawa would jokingly offer him a cigarette and Hanamaki would never accept and they both knew it.

“He’s looking at you again,” Oikawa said, for the tenth time that day, never failing at making Hanamaki look back, send back a smile at Matsukawa as the other boy walked away.

“Honestly, it’s sickening,” Oikawa added, whining when Iwaizumi hit him.

“It’s cute,” Iwaizumi said, making Hanamaki blush.

“Aren’t you guys moving too fast?” Oikawa asked then, sitting down on the roof for their lunch.

“Why?” Hanamaki asked.

“It’s only been a couple of days and you’re all over each other.”

“We’re not together _now_ ,” Hanamaki pointed out.

Oikawa took a bite of his milk bread with a roll of his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said. “It’s the honeymoon phase. It’ll pass.”

“What do you mean; ‘it’ll pass’?” Hanamaki asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

“It’s like,” Oikawa started, “You’re all over each other because you don’t _know_ each other. Once the thrill of knowing wears off, the excitement will leave as well,” he said, sounding way too proud for what he said.

Hanamaki scoffed at him. “And why hasn’t that happened to you two?” He knew the answer, but he just wanted to watch Oikawa sweat.

Oikawa let out a terrible guffaw, just like Hanamaki hoped he’d do.

“Iwa-chan and I are different!” he said, way too loud, making a few heads turn towards them and Iwaizumi hiss at him.

“Stop being so loud, Crappykawa!” Iwaizumi said, sighing when Oikawa continued eating while muttering between bites.

“What Oikawa is trying to say is that we know each other all of our lives. There’s nothing we don’t know about each other. The excitement of something new had long being gone.”

Hanamaki was honestly done with this conversation. “Yeah, but the excitement of seeing his dick for the fi- “

“Makki!”

“Shut up!”

* * *

Hands on his waist, Matsukawa pulled him close, fingers going underneath his sweater, Hanamaki shivering.

“You good?”

“Sensitive. Took a ball at practice.”

“Hmm, let me kiss it better.”

And Matsukawa did. And then kissed some more because he was already there now, wasn’t he?

“Fuck,” Hanamaki breathed.

Matsukawa chuckled against his ribs. “Not yet.”

* * *

They would meet up every weekend because Hanamaki didn’t go to practice anymore and Matsukawa had work only on the weekdays.

And they would kiss behind cars and Matsukawa would blow smoke on Hanamaki’s face because he was an asshole but he would also wipe his tears away after his coughing fit.

“You good?” Matsukawa would ask each time, laughter in his voice and light in his eyes.

“Fuck you,” Hanamaki would reply each time, voice rough from coughing and it never failed to make Matsukawa’s knees shake.

“I don’t bottom, princess,” Matsukawa would say back. Each time.

* * *

They were at the little hill Matsukawa had taken him the first time, a cigarette between Matsukawa’s lips, both looking down at the sleeping city.

Saturdays were a blessing. Not having to worry about waking up early the next day, homework forgotten for the day, the world theirs for now.

Matsukawa blew smoke on Hanamaki’s face, maybe just to hear him cough, maybe just to bring him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him once again.

“Asshole,” Hanamaki said, running a hand down his face, as if he could take the last dregs of smoke away with his fingers, flick them into the air and away, away from them.

Matsukawa chuckled. “What’s on your mind?”

Hanamaki shrugged in that specific way of his that Matsukawa had learned meant that not even Hanamaki himself knew what his thought were. Matsukawa didn’t press.

Maybe he should’ve had.

* * *

“What’s got you all happy?” Hanamaki’s mom asked on a sunny Wednesday morning, breakfast on the table, coffee in mugs, Hanamaki half-awake and mourning a dream he barely remembered.

“You call this happy?” He said, squinting at her.

She rolled her eyes at him and sipped her coffee, but her eyes still fell on him, analyzing, trying to fix a puzzle Hanamaki didn’t know there were missing pieces of.

“Were you on a date on Saturday?” She asked and Hanamaki almost chocked on his coffee, knowing that this was enough for her to claim victory on her self-quest.

“And what if I was?” he said, fake bravado in his voice that fell away a second later. He never kept secrets from his mother, he never had a reason to, but what he had with Matsukawa felt too unreal to be dared to be spoke about.

“Is he nice?” His mom asked, coffee mug empty but still in her hand.

Hanamaki looked down on his toast. “I wouldn’t go out with him if he wasn’t,” he said.

His mom let out a dreamy sigh. “I still remember my first heartbreak.”

Hanamaki was taken aback. “Who said anything about a heartbreak?”

“Oh, please.” She put her mug down on the table. “First loves always end in heartbreak.”

In his head, Hanamaki asked; _who said anything about **love**?_

“Not this,” he defended, done with his breakfast even if it was half-eaten.

“You’re still too young to know, dear,” she told him, not unkindly, before standing up and gathering up the dishes.

Hanamaki usually helped her, but he was too numb to follow.

“Oh,” she said, taking his plate. “Your grandma is visiting later today. She’ll stay the whole week.”

* * *

Hands under his sweatshirt, kissing better bruises that weren’t there and Hanamaki sighed.

He had half a mind to wonder why they always did this outside, up that little hill Matsukawa had taken him the first time, only when it was late at night and Miyagi had long since fell asleep.

“You’ll come back, right?” Hanamaki asked, only after his mouth was kissed red, hair tousled and sweatshirt slightly down his shoulder.

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going anywhere?”

“They say you will,” Hanamaki muttered, looking away from him.

Matsukawa touched his cheek, turning his head towards him. “Who?”

“Friends,” Hanamaki said with a sigh. “Family.”

It was enough to make Matsukawa finally understand the point of the whole conversation.

He gave a small chuckle, slightly less amused than every other Hanamaki had heard from him. “And you believe them?”

“No.”

Matsukawa was the one to sigh now, hand falling down from Hanamaki’s face, the latter wanting to reach and put it back, the warmth of it quickly going away. It shouldn’t feel like this.

“Then why do you ask?”

_It shouldn’t feel like this_ , Hanamaki thought.

“To make you say it,” he said.

“I’ll come back,” Matsukawa promised him, looking at him and then away a second later, lighting up a cigarette.

_It shouldn’t feel like this!_ Hanamaki screamed inside him head.

_Feel like what?_ He asked himself a second later. _Heartbreak,_ his mind supplied.

* * *

Hanamaki loved to daydream. He usually did when he was doing homework, to Iwaizumi’s annoyance and Oikawa’s laughter at not being the one to get hit for once. His friends indulged him, though. What ifs was a small game all three played, something like an inside joke, or like throwing coins inside a fountain. Who knew what would come true.

“What if?” Hanamaki had asked Matsukawa one late evening, walking up the hill they usually went to.

Matsukawa had indulged him. “What if what?”

Hanamaki was too giddy at getting a response he didn’t think to answer himself for a few moments. “What if we run away?”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know,” Hanamaki said. This game wasn’t made for thinking. “Away.”

Matsukawa hummed. “We’d need money.”

“I’d sell my body,” Hanamaki said, just to see Matsukawa smile.

“And who would give money for that?” Matsukawa asked.

Hanamaki gaped at him, an over exaggerated expression, just to see Matsukawa laugh.

It didn’t reach his eyes, but it was still one of the best sounds Hanamaki had ever heard.

* * *

They were on their way to the train station, steps rushed as they tried to make it in time for Matsukawa’s train.

“What if?” Hanamaki asked.

Matsukawa huffed at him, but indulged him.

“What if what?”

“What if there was a zombie apocalypse?”

Matsukawa rolled his eyes and if he wasn’t that close to him, Hanamaki wouldn’t have seen it.

“You’d be dead,” Matsukawa said.

“You wouldn’t try and save me?” Hanamaki tried to keep the whine out of his voice.

“I’d save myself,” Matsukawa said, taking out his train card.

“Rude,” Hanamaki said.

Hanamaki wished he could try and change the ending. But Matsukawa’s train arrived and Matsukawa got on it, gave him half a wave before the doors closed and Hanamaki stood there.

Hanamaki stood there, arms limp by his sides, tongue going over his bottom lip and tasting something bitter. Maybe smoke. Maybe heartbreak.

* * *

Hanamaki’s grandma was one of his favorite people in the world. She had stepped in and helped his mother raise him when his father had abandoned them that one cold Winter morning.

His mother needed all the extra help she could get. Sometimes, Hanamaki forgot how young his mother actually was. She had him fresh out of college, with a guy she was still in the puppy love stage, a mistake to him, a happy miracle to her.

Hanamaki had always thought of his grandma as a second mom, in the sense that he could tell her anything and everything without fear.

“You look sad, dear,” his grandma told him, one cloudy afternoon, mug of tea in her hands.

Hanamaki bit back a sigh and put his phone in his pocket.

“There’s this boy,” he said, slowly, testing the words and when he found that they didn’t burn him, he looked at her.

She was looking at him kindly, a small smile on her lips.

His mother was at work and Hanamaki felt like he could do and say anything.

“And what happened with that boy?” she asked him.

“I don’t know,” he told her honestly, because really, he didn’t.

“How about you start from the beginning?” She prompted.

And Hanamaki did. He told her about how he saw Matsukawa around the school and how he had caught his eye. He didn’t tell her about the smoking and the beers, feeling like she’d disapprove, but also so he could keep a small thing to himself, away from everyone else. He told her about the little hill and a few of their what ifs. And when he was done, she had finished with her tea and was looking at him with a strange little smile that Hanamaki didn’t know if he liked or not.

“It sounds to me like this boy cares about you,” she said, softly, almost like a caress and Hanamaki found himself agreeing.

Yeah, Matsukawa cared about him. It showed in the soft kisses, gentle hands on his back as he coughed from the smoke, teasing smile on lips as Hanamaki cursed at him, but Matsukawa never cursed back.

“Then why isn’t he replying to my messages?” Hanamaki asked, childish in his voice, but hurt inside.

“Do you trust him?” She asked him and it was such an out of the blue question, Hanamaki had to think about it.

“Yeah,” he finally said, moment later.

She nodded at him as if she was proud of him. “Then trust that he will come back to you, like he promised.”

Hanamaki wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Matsukawa had been sincere in his promise. He had seen it in his eyes, even if he had looked away a second later.

But the only one having any faith in Hanamaki’s ability to know things, was his grandma. She was the one to remind his mother that he was almost eighteen, if he said he knew about his love life, then _he knew._

His grandma was the only one he could talk freely about Matsukawa, without fear of receiving rolling eyes and useless talks about young love and heartbreak.

Hanamaki knew that once the puppy love phase faded, things would be difficult. But he knew that Matsukawa would come back. He had promised him.

His grandma would tell him stories about loves that you only came across once in twenty lifetimes and he would blush and his mother would scoff and Matsukawa would read his messages but not reply.

* * *

“So what are you two up to?” Hanamaki asked. Oikawa went on about their latest adventure while Iwaizumi did a really bad job and trying not to stare at him. Hanamaki almost closed his laptop, ending their Skype call.

“-and my sister has been going out every day since we’re here to babysit and it’s driving me crazy because it’s supposed to be our holiday but we’re stuck inside with my nephew!” Oikawa said, finishing with a huff.

Hanamaki rolled his eyes. “You love your nephew,” he said.

Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were away for a few days. It was the sports festival in their school and since all three were third years and retired from their clubs, they had the choice to not come. Most of them took advantage of it, going out of town, but Hanamaki had decided to stay home. His grandma was leaving tomorrow.

“How are things with you?” Iwaizumi asked him next.

“About what?” Hanamaki said.

“About Matsukawa,” Oikawa said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hanamaki fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He really, really didn’t want to talk about it.

But they were his best friends and he hated keeping secrets from them.

“He hasn’t been answering my texts,” he murmured, loud enough for his laptop to catch and the silence that followed made him sit up and check if they had actually heard him.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were sharing a look before they looked back at him and Hanamaki could feel a talk coming before either of them opened their mouths.

“Makki,” Oikawa started but he didn’t know what to say and so he looked at Iwaizumi for help.

“What Oikawa is trying to say.” And how weird it was that Iwaizumi said ‘Oikawa’ and not one of his usual nicknames. Hanamaki could count in one hand how many time that had happened. “Is that you’ll get over him.”

Hanamaki scoffed at them.

Oikawa eagerly nodded. “Yeah! Once school finishes we can go to clubs and stuff!” He was more excited than he ought to be. “We’ll fix this heartbreak of yours immediately!”

“Who said it needed fixing?” He asked, glaring at the wall behind his laptop.

“Makki,” Oikawa sighed, sounding like he was talking to a child who had made the same mistake five times in a row. Patient, yet slowly losing it. “We warned you about him.”

“No,” Hanamaki said, his own patience running thin. “You warned me about the rumors you’ve heard.”

Oikawa threw his hands in the air. “Rumors are based on truth!” he said.

“You don’t know the truth!” Hanamaki said back, his voice raised. “You don’t know him!”

Now it was Oikawa’s turn to scoff at him. “Oh, and you do? You’ve been going out for what? A month? A month and a half?”

Iwaizumi was silent by Oikawa’s side, but Hanamaki knew that he would interfere if one of them lost it completely.

“He made me feel _seen._ It was enough,” Hanamaki said, voice suddenly soft, as if he had come to a realization just then.

“Enough for what?” Oikawa asked, all the fight having left his body at the sound of Hanamaki’s voice.

Hanamaki looked at his two best friends, face bare and lips slightly trembling, the realization suddenly too strong, too big to be kept inside. “I think I love him,” he said, voice a mere whisper and he closed his eyes tight.

He heard a gasp he knew came from Oikawa and when he opened his eyes, he saw Oikawa having a hand in front of his mouth and Iwaizumi looking at him with wide eyes.

“We didn’t know,” Iwaizumi said then.

Hanamaki gave a humorless laugh. “How could you? We never hanged out all four of us,” he said.

“What are you going to do now?” Oikawa asked.

Hanamaki shrugged. “It’s like you said; puppy love. Once it fades away you don’t know what’ll happen.” He was strangely okay with that.

“Yes,” Oikawa nodded. “But what are _you_ going to do now?”

“Wait for him to come back, I guess,” he said.

“And will he?” Iwaizumi asked.

“He promised me.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Oikawa inevitably broke it.

“I hate it when we argue!” He whined, but there was a smile playing on his lips that only grew when Iwaizumi hit his arm.

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips as well.

“Takahiro!” His mother suddenly yelled.

“I have to go,” he told Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “I’ll text you later!” He said and after a chorus of agreements and goodbyes, he went to see what his mother wanted.

“There’s someone at the door for you,” she told him, an unusual smile on her face.

“Oh?” He went and peaked through the living room window and his legs almost gave out when he saw that it was Matsukawa, standing on his front porch.

Hanamaki turned to his mother. “I’m going out for a bit,” he said, voice faint.

She nodded at him, another unusual smile. “Good luck,” she told him.

When Hanamaki went out, Matsukawa was looking at the ground, standing underneath his front porch light, looking like something out of a movie.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, slightly chocked up.

Matsukawa sharply looked up, as if he hadn’t realized that Hanamaki had come.

“I’d save you,” Matsukawa said, voice earnest.

Hanamaki was feeling too many things to make sense of that sentence. “What?”

“If there was a zombie apocalypse. I’d save you.”

Hanamaki felt his face split into a smile, his eyes soft. “I know you would.”

Matsukawa finally relaxed. “Good,” he said, a smile on his face as well.

Hanamaki moved closer to him and then they were walking away, side by side.

“Hey,” Hanamaki suddenly said. “What if?”

Matsukawa looked at him, eyes impossibly soft and bright. “What if what?”

Hanamaki licked his lips. “What if I said I missed you?”

They stopped walking. Matsukawa took his hand. “I’d say I missed you, too.”

Hanamaki felt impossibly light. He took a step closer to him, and then they were chest to chest, Matsukawa’s lips brushing the top of his nose and Hanamaki had to slightly tilt his head up to look at him in the eyes.

“What if?” he asked.

“What if what?” Matsukawa asked back not even a second later.

Hanamaki pecked him on the lips, a minute thing that spoke of many things yet to come. “What if said I loved you?” It was a whisper, but they were already sharing breaths, it didn’t need to be anything but.

Matsukawa looked the happiest Hanamaki had ever seen him. “I’d say I loved you, too.”

Hanamaki smiled. “Good,” he said, kissing him.

Later, they were walking towards the train station so Issei could take his train home. His hand never left Takahiro’s slightly smaller one.

“I want to stay more with you,” Issei said, a slight whine in his voice.

“You’ll lose your train,” Takahiro pointed out, smile still big and starting to hurt his cheeks.

“I don’t care.”

“It’s the last train, Issei.”

Issei pouted. “I don’t care.” Takahiro’s heart burst.

“You’ll come back to me,” he said.

“I will,” Issei promised, pressing a chaste kiss on Takahiro’s forehead, hands regretfully leaving each other. The train was still five minutes away.

“Goodnight,” Takahiro said.

“Goodnight,” Issei echoed back and started walking towards the train station.

Takahiro tried to change the ending, he really did. But he found that he didn’t have to.

Issei ran back to him, pulled him into a hug and kissed him like it would suddenly make everything alright in the world.

Takahiro laughed once they pulled apart. Two minutes till the train arrived.

“I knew you’d come back to me,” he said.

Issei laughed against his mouth before kissing him again. “I promised, didn’t I?”

One minute till the train arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @mycapof . you can usually find me screaming about stuff. it's fun.
> 
> thanks for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a kudos and a comment if you did!
> 
> ♥~♥


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